Dumb Bunny
Hurray for Barbara Park
and the Junie B. Jones
®
books!
“Park, one of the funniest writers around … brings her refreshing humor to the beginning chapter-book set.”
—
Booklist
“Park convinces beginning readers that Junie B.—
and
reading—are lots of fun.”
—
Publishers Weekly
“Park is simply hilarious.”
—America Online's
The Book Report
“Junie B. is a darling of the young-reader set.”
—
USA Today
“Children's book star Junie B. Jones is a feisty six-year-old with an endearing penchant for honesty.”
—Time
“First grade offers a whole year of exciting possibilities for Junie B…. As always, Park is in touch with what kids know and how they feel.”
—
School Library Journal
“Sassy, hilarious, and insightful. Park obviously understands the passions and fears of first-graders.”
—
Booklist
Laugh out loud with Junie B. Jones!
#1
Junie B. Jones and the Stupid Smelly Bus
#2
Junie B. Jones and a Little Monkey Business
#3
Junie B. Jones and Her Big Fat Mouth
#4
Junie B. Jones and Some Sneaky Peeky Spying
#5
Junie B. Jones and the Yucky Blucky Fruitcake
#6
Junie B. Jones and That Meanie Jim's Birthday
#7
Junie B. Jones Loves Handsome Warren
#8
Junie B. Jones Has a Monster Under Her Bed
#9
Junie B. Jones Is Not a Crook
#10
Junie B. Jones Is a Party Animal
#11
Junie B. Jones Is a Beauty Shop Guy
#12
Junie B. Jones Smells Something Fishy
#13
Junie B. Jones Is (almost) a Flower Girl
#14
Junie B. Jones and the Mushy Gushy Valentime
#15
Junie B. Jones Has a Peep in Her Pocket
#16
Junie B. Jones Is Captain Field Day
#17
Junie B. Jones Is a Graduation Girl
#18
Junie B., First Grader (at last!)
#19
Junie B., First Grader: Boss of Lunch
#20
Junie B., First Grader: Toothless Wonder
#21
Junie B., First Grader: Cheater Pants
#22
Junie B., First Grader: One-Man Band
#23
Junie B., First Grader: Shipwrecked
#24
Junie B., First Grader: BOO … and I MEAN It!
#25
Junie B., First Grader: Jingle Bells, Batman Smells! (P.S. So Does May)
#26
Junie B., First Grader: Aloha-ha-ha!
#27
Junie B., First Grader: Dumb Bunny
Top-Secret Personal Beeswax: A Journal by Junie B. (and me!)
Check out Barbara Park's other great books, listed at the end of this book!
I put down my pencil and looked at May.
Then I squinted my eyes real teensy.
And I thought that name to just myself.
Dumb bunny! Dumb bunny! Dumb bunny! Dumb bunny!
May looked suspicious at me.
“What are you doing, Junie Jones? Why are you squinting like that?” she asked. “Stop it right now. Stop that squinting.”
I paused my squint.
“I'm not just
squinting
at you, May. I'm also thinking a name about you inside my head. But you don't even know what name I'm thinking. ’Cause heads are silent. Which is what I like about heads,” I said.
May frowned.
I started my squint again.
Dumb bunny, dumb bunny, dumb bunny, dumb bunny, dumb bunny
, I thought
.
After I finished, I brushed my hands together very satisfied.
“There. That ought to hold me for a while,” I said.
May kept on frowning.
Then
BLAM!
She exploded out of her chair! And she zoomed to the front of the room!
“Mr. Scary! Mr. Scary! Junie B. called me that name again! I
know
she did! Only she thought it inside her head! And that is just plain sneaky!”
Mr. Scary was writing at his desk.
He closed his eyes and did a big breath.
“May, what are our three new rules about tattling?” he asked. “You and I came up with three new rules to control your tattling, remember? Can you tell me what they are, please?”
May stood there a real long time.
She did not like the three new rules, I believe.
Finally, she started to say them.
“Rule number one: Count to twenty before I tattle,” she grumped.
Mr. Scary nodded. “Yes, May. Excellent. That's the first rule. Go on.”
“Rule number two,” said May. “If I still feel like tattling, count to twenty
again.
”
Mr. Scary did a thumbs-up.
“Yes, good … and rule number three?”
May sucked in her cheeks.
“Rule number three: If I
still
feel like tattling after that … go home … eat dinner … go to bed … wake up … eat breakfast … come back to school … raise my hand to tattle … then put my hand over my mouth … and please be quiet,” she said.
Mr. Scary clapped his happy hands.
“Perfect! You've got it! Those are
exactly
the rules we talked about, aren't they?” he said. “I'm very proud of you for remembering them!”
He stood up and walked her back to her chair.
“You have a
great
memory for rules, May,” he said. “But the next step is to actually
follow
the rules, okay? And I don't believe you counted to twenty this time, did you?”
I leaned over and tapped on him.
“I can vouch for that,” I said. “There was definitely no counting.”
Mr. Scary frowned at me.
“I'll deal with you in a minute, Miss Jones,” he said. “You and I are going to review the rules on name-calling.”
I did a gulp.
“But I didn't even
call
her a name, Mr. Scary. All I did was think a name in my head,” I said.
May flashed her angry eyes.
“No, you did not just
think
it, Junie Jones. You
told
me you were thinking it. And that is exactly like saying it, almost,” she said.
She went on.
“Plus you didn't even think it
quietly.
You thought it so loud that I could hear it in your brain.”
May looked up at Mr. Scary.
“My ears were tested last year in kindergarten,” she said. “The nurse said I can hear as good as a North American barn owl.”
Mr. Scary stared at her a real long time.
“No, May. No. I'm sorry,” he said finally. “But the nurse did
not
tell you that. You do
not
hear as well as a North American barn owl.”
May squirmed in her chair a little bit.
Squirming is what happens after fibbing.
At least that has always been my experience.
After a minute, May put her head on her desk. And she covered up with her sweater.
Mr. Scary bent down next to me.
“And as for you, Miss Jones … this is the absolute last time that I
ever
want to talk to you about name-calling,” he said. “I don't want you to
say
dumb bunny, or
think
dumb bunny, or
sing
dumb bunny, or
hum
dumb bunny, or
write
dumb bunny. Do you understand?”
I tapped my fingers on my desk.
“But then what am I supposed to do when May is mean to me?” I asked him. “I have to call her
something
or else she won't even know I'm mad.”
I thought for a second. Then I clapped my hands together.
“Hey! I know! Maybe I could just
think
the
dumb
part in my head. And I'll call her just plain
bunny!”
I said. “Would just plain
bunny
be okay with you?”
May popped up from under her sweater.
“No, no, no!” she grouched. “Just plain
bunny
isn't nice, either!”
My friend named Sheldon stood up.
“Bunny
isn't nice? How come
bunny
isn't nice?” he asked. “I have an aunt named Bunny. And she's very,
very
nice.”
Sheldon looked at Mr. Scary.
“My aunt Bunny is married to my uncle Vern,” he said. “Aunt Bunny has a lot of—”
Mr. Scary quick held up his hand.
“Yes, Sheldon, we
know.
You've told us many interesting things about your aunt Bunny. But right now we don't need to hear any more about your aunt Bunny's—”
“Skull tattoos,” said Sheldon.
“Please sit down,” said Mr. Scary.
Across the room, Lucille sprang right up.
“Well, I love, love,
love
bunnies!” she said. “And so this subject is perfect timing for me! Because I'm having a big party at my giant house on Saturday! And
all
of you are invited to come!”
She bounced up and down real excited.
“And guess what else? A very famous bunny is going to be there to meet you! Guess who it is, everyone! Guess the bunny! Guess the bunny!” she said.
Room One thought real hard.
Then all of us started to guess at once.
“Bugs Bunny?”
“Buster Bunny?”
“The Bionic Bunny?”
“Thumper?” we guessed.
Lucille rolled her eyes.
“No, no, no,” she said. “My bunny is
way
more famous than those dumb cartoon guys.”
We guessed some more.
“The Trix Rabbit?”
“The Velveteen Rabbit?”
“Peter Rabbit?” we asked.
Lucille stamped her foot.
“NO!” she said again. “What's
wrong
with you people? It's the
Easter Bunny!
Haven't you ever heard of the Easter Bunny?”
She reached into her desk and pulled out some fancy envelopes.
Then she waved them around real angry.
“Do you see these invitations? Huh? Do you?” she asked. “These are invitations to an Easter-egg hunt at my rich, expensive house! And I was going to pass them out at lunch. But if you dumb clucks never even
heard
of the Easter Bunny, just never mind the whole thing!”
After that, she did a huffy. And she flounced back in her chair.
Mr. Scary hurried over there.
Then he quick got her up.
And he took her by the hand.
And he walked her into the hall.
They were gone a real long time.
When they finally came back, Lucille said she is sorry for calling us
dumb clucks.
That is some kind of insult, apparently.
Then she took the envelopes out of her desk again. And she gave everyone an invitation.
And so, yippee, yippee!
Hurray, hurray!
Room One is going to a party!